Wane
by Aiko Isari
Summary: Yamato's bones itch, and it all stems from the bite on his leg. Yamato-centric introspection.
1. 1

1.

He can't eat fish anymore.

He can, but it's not enough, not filling. Vegetables are only so much too. His stomach growls like he's offended it, growls like he's the one at fault. Like everything is wrong and he is right.

All that works is red meat, cooked barely. And his wallet weeps. His family stares.

The only thing that hurts more than his aching stomach is the bite mark scabbed over his leg. Even six months later it's not healed. It's only scabbed.

He can't tell anyone. There's no one to tell. Not his father, who is never home. Not his mother, who he cannot forgive for splitting the _pack_ – their family. Takeru? Takeru is finally acting like a normal child again, bartering for training cards and whining for the last chocolate bar. He doesn't cry at everything anymore, barely cries at anything now. He doesn't want to jeopardize him. His brother doesn't need him for everything, but th

So he deals.

He stays quiet because he doesn't have any ideas. Meanwhile he cuts his hair with kitchen scissors and continues settling for raw fish and running at night.

Sometimes, Taichi is outside. He's kicking a ball at a wall, shaking when he has to go get it. Sometimes Hikari is there, calling plays and racing after it without coughing.

He doesn't know when everyone became everywhere.

They never talk. Sometimes Sora is around for no reason.

Help me, he begs in silence.

No one does. No one can.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_ **Verse! It's ready! It's postable! Ilu!

Challenges: Diversity Writing F59,


	2. 2

2.

His hair has hints of blue at the roots as of that one weekend, mixing with a white so sheer it blends in with the blond.

It's only some of his hair but it comes off in the shower and he hates it, hates it, wants his body to burn and go back to normal. Wants to not think of spewing blue fire. Wants to spew blue fire and eat raw meat and run run _run_.

But normal humans don't do that, don't think to raise their hind leg to scratch at an ear because the rest of their limbs are used to keep the body upright. They don't try to sink human nails into clothing and _tug_ when they aren't meant for that, when it's a miracle they can normally puncture paper they get bit down so much.

Yamato has a terrible urge to bite everything but his nails.

Takeru notices, he worries but he doesn't talk to him and it'd be like the digital world never happened because they aren't talking anymore. Neither of them know how.

He hears Gabumon, wistful, sad, calling in a howl.

In his dreams, Yamato howls with him. While he's awake he settles for screaming into his pillow and praying for his father to come home soon to remind him what normal looks like.

One night, like a dream, Gabumon is there at his bedside.

He flickers a lot, only lasts mere seconds.

But it leaves him lonelier than before all the same.


	3. 3

3.

The Digital World calls him.

Not the Yagamis, not Takeru. Him. And thank god, it is so good, the smell of the earth, it even smells green as grass should. He could lap and taste real water, crystal clear and not full of whatever humans put into it.

And he could run, he could run he could _run._ All fours, all legs, on on on-

And Gabumon was

Here.

Beside him.

His red eyes were glowing with joy, with joy and love and nostalgia and worry because if Gabumon wasn't worrying, he wasn't his Gabumon.

Come to think of it were there more Gabumon? He had only seen his. There were plenty of Koromon, they'd had a full village, so maybe there was one of Tsunomon and packs of Gabumon. Maybe Gabumon had oothers, friends, family.

Maybe Gabumon didn't need him anymore.

Gabumon cried out sharply. "Of _course_ I do, Yamato!"

He must have spoken aloud. Heat flushed his face and guilt filled it without hesitation.

They're no longer running and he feels miserable. He just wants to keep running, keep going and no longer thinking of his life outside.

"You're my best friend, Yamato," Gabumon continues and for a moment all Yamato can think of is the dark cave, clouds looping around him, begging to be eaten through and denied even getting close. "No matter what happens, we're always going to meet again!"

Yamato swallows. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

They hug and everything should be okay.

But it isn't.


	4. 4

4.

He's not at home when he wakes.

He's under sheets (restrained, collared, held down, how dare they, his legs aren't strong enough, his mouth won't open wide enough to bite or burn how dare they how dare they-) and there is an unsteady beeping sound to his left. He jerks, unnaturally immobile, he hates hates hates it and sees-

For a second it's Gabumon's familiar comforting blue and white but in the end it's just Takeru.

No, not just Takeru. Takeru is family, pack, his.

He's not just Takeru.

But he's not Gabumon either and that is disappointing. It's okay to say that, or think that right?

But unlike Gabumon, he's really here. And he's peacefully sleeping.

It hurts, the lump in his throat hurts so much. It's going to break his neck.

Then Takeru stirs, Yamato hears his pulse rise just a little and panic sets in.

Something is wrong with him after all.

His leg twinges in reminder.

* * *

"Growing up's hard, isn't it?"

He's out of the hospital, Mimi's in Japan, they're all together. The digimon aren't but they will come. He's sure.

He wants raw meat. He can't eat enough food. He can't get a job.

Yamato contains it all. He doesn't want to. He wants, he wants, he wants-

Hikari snaps her small, thin fingers in front of his face. "Don't do that," she warns. "Everyone will know. Everyone."

She's not shy anymore, not to him. "They'll think you're a liar. They'll treat you like me."


	5. 5

5.

Hikari stops talking to him.

Gabumon stops appearing in his dreams.

Everything stops. Everything.

He hates it. He hates it, he hates it he hates it.

No, not everything stops. His craving for meat gets worse. His clothes itch more and more. But he has to contribute to society. He has to continue to endure.

(What use in endurance outside of battle? What's the use of enduring to make yourself feel better?)

His father is worried. He stays home from work. They spend time together. Yamato likes it. He sleeps better. But he sleeps with more guilt and lumps than he ever had when the man was gone.

Yamato doesn't know what to do and neither does anyone else. He almost wishes Taichi would punch him, just for something to make sense in the universe again.

Takeru comes over a few times, sometimes with food, others with just his company. They don't talk about him being in the hospital, or what's wrong with him. Takeru won't talk about what's wrong with him either, so all they talk about are banal, happy things, like having the last shot in class, or Yamato's fingers adjusting more smoothly to the guitar.

"You're not special, Onii-chan," Takeru says suddenly.

Yamato jumps. "What?" His voice isn't as harsh and he's glad but it's not sharp enough and it hurts him instead.

"Whatever's bothering you," Takeru continues. "It bothers us too. Don't hide it anymore."

Why don't they understand? He's not hiding!

"Liar," Takeru says affectionately.


	6. 6

6.

Yamato dreams of Gabumon again, but this time he doesn't wake up in the hospital, or the digital world. He wakes up and his father is carrying his bags out to the car. They need to see their grandmother. She's old and tired and starting to forget them. They want to convince her to go to a nursing home.

Yamato doesn't see how he can do that, but maybe he's just there to look after Takeru, who loves baseball but also loves asking a lot of questions and making lots of points that he should not know but does and he in turn does tend to unnerve people, especially nowadays. He was almost like Tokomon, but with mental teeth.

…. He really doesn't want to imagine his brother with all of Tokomon's teeth in his mouth. The boy's scary enough as it is.

And so is he apparently because his poor aging grandma who can't even look at their faces through the heavy squint she's developed, avoids him like the plague.

He doesn't mind. The lack of many stoplights and the single road that isn't dirt paved paths make his heart sing a little. But he still yearns for a tv that isn't the size of a moving box and a computer that can run anything at all.

No wonder when Taichi calls, he answers with Takeru.

Takeru must be sick of him by now.

"They took Hikari," breathes into the desperate voicemail and Yamato cannot contain the protective snarl.


	7. 7

7.

What Takeru doesn't understand, or maybe he does, is that the world is full of unkindness. There are many in the world who will take advantage of your pain and your sorrow. What Takeru probably doesn't understand is that Hikari is the kindest version of those people. Or that she could become it very easily.

All he cares about is saving her because his brother is still kind and that's his friend. Selfishly, all Yamato cares about is Gabumon and being near Gabumon, but he cares about the way Taichi is shaking on the other side of the screen, the way Koushiro's hand is over his and the way he almost spits and blurs the screen.

This Yamato understands. This he feels in his bones and the pack being broken still makes him ache in ways he only associated with the _divorce._

And as the monster jumps and jumps he sees-

Hikari, dangling, shining, being. And the monster continues to fire and-

Hikari is starting to turn grey and from that, from that-

Yamato sees red.

And then he _feels_ red. Patamon is slammed into something so hard he shakes. And Takeru is almost howling, tears down his face, slamming his hands on the keyboard. And everything slows down. Everything

Moves

So

Slowly.

The people are fussing, but they have low voices and uninteresting drawls. They're nothing but white noise.

Yamato reaches forward. The screen feels too far away. He touches cool glass and he

folds

over

and

falls

down.


	8. 8

8.

He wakes up and Yamato feels… Good. Free, natural. Like he is where he belongs. Like the idea of being anywhere else is laughable at best and mocking at worst. He is… at peace.

His stomach unfolds and only then is when he pauses. _Oh,_ he thinks. _Well, that's not right, is it?_

 _It's half right,_ his body assures him, as if that's good enough. But his mind protests because he is Yamato and not a mechanical wolf. But he is the wolf, he wants to be the wolf. But the wolf is Gabumon. He doesn't want to _be_ Gabumon. He wants to be _with Gabumon._

He pulls himself away, slow and each bit hurts like he's pulling out his veins and arteries and sinew and rewarping them into the proper skin and bones and-

Finally he can see. Finally. It's not what he expected or wanted to see, but he can now. The world is covered in monsters, great, vapid things that are whispering a single name over and over and other phrases.

And towards the bottom of that great black mass was a single pinprick of light. And it burns to look at it.

"Yamato."

Taichi. He's there, omnipresent all of a sudden, or always if he's honest. He's floating there. "Yamato," he repeats, and his eyes are wide. What can he see, all of a sudden? What does Yamato look like now?

"Are you ready?" he says. "We're going in."

Is he? Yamato supposes he must be.


	9. 9

9.

It feels right to use a cannon. It doesn't come from him, but doesn't it really? The power is in him, Omegamon is in him. The bite on his leg, the fur that crawls along his limbs and makes him eat raw meat. No he is not Gabumon, he is Ishida Yamato but that doesn't mean Gabumon isn't a part of him. They aren't meant to be two in one or one in two but they are meant to belong to each other and that is not the same and it matters, it means everything.

It's also sappy but that's fine. His friends have let him be sappy before even when he hasn't really thought about it.

"Hikari!" Taichi shouts.

The light flickers. Yamato imagines if Takeru had been in there. Would he be as calm as little Hikari-chan? She must be terrified in there, but the light flickers throughout, unimpeded. Even the cannon fire and the colors that rock the world aren't really breaking through.

Something flickers at the edge of his senses and he looks up. "Fire!" And he looks to Taichi and holds out a hand.

"Get your sister."

And with a hefty tug with twig arms, he throws Taichi and takes to the battle.

His body roars with it, the howl leaving his mouth since it can't leave Omegamon's.

Yamato feels the world drawing to speed, the monster leaping faster and faster, then slowing into a crawl, then a twitch, then to death.

As it should.


	10. 10

10.

Taichi doesn't ask him any questions. They just get an emailed picture of him, Koushiro and Hikari, the girl sleeping peacefully on his lap.

That feels good, feels right, and he leans Takeru against him, just to feel more right. Takeru smiles at him.

"You're going to lie less now, right?" he says as they climb up the stone path to their grandmother's house. They'd left her asleep. Presumably, that's what they're going home to.

"I-" He stops. Takeru looks at him. "I wasn't lying."

"You probably didn't notice," Takeru says, waving his hand. "You think so much it's distracting. But you'll try not to anymore right?"

Yamato makes a face. "Yeah. Sure."

"Good." Takeru runs inside and the conversation ends.

Within days they're called to the digital world, properly this time. And this time he can hold Gabumon and say "I'm okay," and mean it. And it feels good, it feels safe and home and right because none of his bone deep urges are gone. But he is all right because those urges aren't wrong. They are fine.

He's noticed it now in ways he hasn't before. The others, long hours in the other world have warped them. Less than him, but warped regardless. Full of the fires they didn't have, the touches of the other world.

Hikari-chan is the only one who seems unchanged.

"I've been at this longer than you," she tells him before he can ask. "I don't remember much else."

She laughs at the moon.


	11. 11

11.

Giving up the Crest hurts Gabumon more than him.

Not that it doesn't hurt a little. It's closing a part of himself that has remained open for years and years, centuries and centuries inside a computer and days in a world that moves too slow. Action is done behind closed doors, people are moved by words on a screen. There is no straightforward path.

Yamato takes up running. Takes up the heat of the sun on his back, the light guiding him home, the wind brushing his skin, filling his nose with the smell of the grass, the sweat pouring down the back of his neck.

His brother, smiling and leading him forward, laughing kindly at every exaggerated thing he does, teeth shining in the light. Never questioning their visiting together, sometimes joining him as he sings to the moon. The moon that someday he may want to reach. But for now he keeps his feet perfectly on the ground.

Gabumon is hurting from the loss of the power, but all Yamato needs to do is dream and his partner will rest easy. Even as the world falls apart in sick and twisted ways, and dark things coil beneath their paws, a single dream gives them the chance to run together again and again and he seeks out every chance. There is no going back.

His father worries, and he shows it now. It is good, different. It will continue. But this is Yamato's normal, bound by the changing moon.


End file.
